


hands tangled over grayness

by soniagiris



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Ikusaba Mukuro, Other, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 18:29:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10542087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soniagiris/pseuds/soniagiris
Summary: After their last exam at Hope's Peak, Mukuro has a moment to themself to think about the future.





	

**Author's Note:**

>   * warnings in the end notes o3o
>   * shot out to star @dunyazad for beta reading I Owe Star My Firstborn
> 


This year's December didn't make Mukuro think of the color white, didn't get them to think of snow piles and frozen patterns on the dormitory windows. As they stood on the roof, watching the campus buzz with activity and feeling the chill wind whip their hair in their face, Mukuro decided that this month was more like gray smoke. 

And maybe white was the color of death, but this grayness felt much…  not sadder, that's not the appropriate word. More melancholic, possibly? They hugged themselves even though they didn't feel the cold. 

“Sweetheart?”

Just three years ago, when they started attending Hope's Peak, after realizing someone's behind their back, Mukuro would turn sharply on their heel, one hand already reaching for a weapon and a peculiar calm of battle entrapping them. But— but some things have changed, and it only takes them a one-two-three breaths to squash those artificial instincts and to let their fingers relax over their belt, nails brushing the hilt of the knife.

“Hi,” Mukuro says, then, finally, turns their head to look their girlfriend in the eye. Sayaka’s lips curl in a reassuring smile.

“How was the exam?” she asks as if she didn't know from the texts Mukuro send her not even an hour ago.

“Was okay,” they mutter, refocusing on the sight below them, their grip tight on the railing. “Just a dumb simulation of a hostage rescue operation. Not much. I'd expect better from my last test here.”

“Mm.” Sayaka steps closer, encircles Mukuro's forearm with her slender hand and rests her cheek on the soft cotton sleeve of their hoodie. “The last exam,” she repeats thoughtfully.

“How the time passes,” Mukuro snorts, not feeling particularly amused. “I feel old.”

“Hey, I'm a few months older than you!” Sayaka playfully taps their cheek. “If you're old, what does that make me?”

Mukuro rolls their eyes, then presses their lips to Sayaka's forehead. 

“Mhm,” they say flatly.

The blast of chilly air strikes at them two, and Sayaka shivers a bit. Mukuro picks up their coat where they threw it on the concrete floor and carefully puts it on her shoulders. A few of the second year kids scream at each other all those meters below the two of them. One of them, Mukuro notices, is that charmingly awkward robot whom they once dissed the social construct of gender with. Nice kid, this one.

“Besides,” Sayaka toys with a strand of Mukuro's hair, “we're barely twenty. We've got an entire lifetime waiting for us.” She giggles, which means she just came up with a new weird metaphor. “Our TV show won't get canceled for so long the viewers will have trouble keeping up with it or counting the number of seasons.”

“You're a dork,” Mukuro boops her nose, then allows the smirk to fall off their face. “But one season is about to end.”

“Is that why you're here, in your thinking spot?” When Mukuro nods, Sayaka releases the grip on their arm to catch their hand and swing it a bit. “I see.”

“Sorry,” they say mindlessly. Grimace. “It's. It's just.”

“Hey, it's okay,” murmurs Sayaka, gently squeezing her partner's fingers. “If you don't want to talk about it, don't force yourself.”

“You're right, I. I don't really want to talk about it,” Mukuro says, glancing at Sayaka. “But telling you what's on my mind… It'd help me feel better. I think.” 

A silence blankets them two, but it's anything but uncomfortable, no, it's calm yet expectant, like arms open for a hug. Mukuro knows, both instinctively and from their experience, that Sayaka is giving them space. A choice. They blink rapidly, not even bothering to pretend they teared up just because of the wind. But, when something in them whispers that they don't deserve such a good girlfriend, Mukuro takes special care to shut it the fuck up.

“Being here, in this school, with you and my sister and my friends…” Mukuro wipes their eyes with the back of their hand. “It's wonderful. It's comfortable. But getting to this point took me quite a while, and now that we're all going to graduate and spread across the country…” Seeing Sayaka tilt her head as if to object, they add, “And, yeah, I remember our plans, but our majors will differ so much we'll only see each other after classes . I'll have to worm my way into a new community and…” Mukuro shrugs minutely. “Saying it's scaring me would be one hell of an overstatement, but I can't lie and say it's not unnerving.”

“Oh, Mukuro…” Sayaka lets go of their hand and wraps her arm around their waist. “I'm sorry you feel that way.”

“Don't be,” chides Mukuro. “I'll handle it. After all, I've been through worse.”

“I know, and I'm still angry about it.” She sighs quietly. “This rehearsal did wring me out, so I'm out of wise words to comfort you. Let me just remind you — I'm here. I'll be there for you.”

Her smile isn't the brightest Mukuro ever saw on her face, but it still makes their heart soar. They give into her embrace and link their wrists behind her neck, snuggling their face in the arch of her neck. Sayaka hums a hushed little tune, that one she created after their first date. A few wisps of sky-blue hair has escaped from her ponytail, and now they're moving in the wind, occasionally tickling Mukuro's cheek.

“Thank you,” Mukuro chokes out, their throat tight, but they're not about to cry, not this time. 

It's been almost two years since they finally listened to Junko's whining and asked Sayaka out, but, right now, the sense of time doesn't truly exist, it dissolves in the warmth, in the familiar, sweet scent of Sayaka's skin, and Mukuro lets their eyelids slip closed, watches the swirling patterns painted over the darkness, and just…

No one's perfect. Hell, a few weeks earlier Sayaka pissed Mukuro off when she followed her fan after her show, even though there has been more news about yet another idol being stalked and harassed. And maybe Mukuro did panic more than necessary, but Sayaka had forgotten to charge her phone and wasn't available to anyone. But in the end… it worked out, Sayaka promised to take a few more self-defense classes, Mukuro went with Ogami and Chabashira for a tea to calm down, and the world kept spinning on. And it won't be perfect, none of them will be, but it's just how it is.

“Thank you,” they repeat. Sayaka's chest vibrates as she giggles good-heartedly.

“Always, sweetheart, always.”

And the grayness is, for a moment, no longer of smoke, but of soft feathers and winter sea.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> a/n
> 
>   * **cw: gun mentions; knife mentions; light pda; violence mentions;**
>   * also - please [check out this ikuzono discord](https://discord.gg/Q9beAZ3), we make memes and cry a lot it's fun i promise
>   * ok listen i just. felt a bit lonely during this weird lecture @ uni so i. wrote this. bc i love me them gays and nb mukuro is a Good. (also i think that the image of nb mookoo in a hoodie is my gift to the entire humankind).
>   * remember: comments give me life. please comment or i will _die_. like. for real. (: my doctor can confirm this :) *sweats*
> 



End file.
